


Broken Wings

by cynatnite



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Possible pre-slash Tony/Steve, Rough Sex, Super Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 17:18:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynatnite/pseuds/cynatnite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint Barton spirals out of control and the Avengers are helpless to watch. Only one person can save him.</p>
<p>Sequel to We'll Always Have New Mexico</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to We'll Always Have New Mexico.

How long Clint lay in bed, he didn’t know. It was midmorning and he knew he should have been up hours ago. Lately, there was no reason to wake at dawn and check in with SHIELD for his next assignment. The assignments were getting fewer and fewer. The writing was on the wall. 

This was not the life he was hoping for. That all changed the second he walked into Phil Coulson’s office. The desire had been immediate and the love soon followed. They had made plans and then Loki decided to pay a visit. 

Clint covered his eyes with his arm. He hated reliving dead history. But he couldn’t forget the role he played in Coulson’s death and revival. He had to give up everything so the man he loved would have a will to live. 

Clint walked away and refused to look back. Until today when it became obvious he was a pariah at SHIELD. 

It took three rings of a doorbell and two knocks for him to finally get out of bed. After slipping on his sweats, he shuffled to the door and opened it.

“Agent Clint Barton?” The taller man appeared in his 50’s, wore a high-necked overcoat and held out a badge. “The name is Less Fulbright.”

“Yeah, I heard of you.” Clint allowed him inside and went to the small kitchen. He found the coffee can and saw that it was empty. He hadn’t been shopping in weeks. “I’m out of coffee.”

“I already took the liberty.” Fulbright set a Starbucks cup on the counter. “Mind if I sit?”

“Go ahead.” Thankful for the black liquid, Clint carried the cup in the living room. While Fulbright sat on the couch, he took the chair. “What brings you here, sir?”

“I’ve followed your career since you joined SHIELD. It’s impressive.” When no response came, Fulbright continued. “You know what I do.”

“You take the shit missions. The ones no one wants. Your team has the highest turnover rate in SHIELD.”

“That’s part of it. The reason why my turnover rate is high because my agents have for the most part fallen out of favor with the upper echelon at SHIELD. They’re looking to redeem their reputations and better their situations.”

“I get it.” Clint toyed with the lid on his coffee. “You think I need to **redeem** myself.”

“You’re getting less and less work as time goes on. Some were willing to work with you because of your time with the Avengers and agents like Romanoff stood up for you. Even the director vouched for you after what happened. You would’ve been given a pass after the Stuttgart incident, but leading a strike force on the helicarrier, nearly taking it and everyone down not counting the loss of life was another mark against you. The worst of it was you gave Loki a foothold on our planet and disclosed every SHIELD secret.”

Clint tightened his mouth together. He sure as hell didn’t need a history of what he’d done. At least the man hadn’t read off his crimes against Phil Coulson. “What’s your point, Agent Fulbright?”

“These situations rarely improve with time. The less calls you get, the less SHIELD is likely to keep you around. You and I both know that your career will continue to falter. You’ll find yourself either leaving of your own accord or forced out.”

“You think after I do a mission with you it will change.”

Fulbright chuckled a bit and leaned forward. “It’ll take a hell of a lot more than a mission for you to get the sterling reputation you had before Loki and New York.”

“What are you asking me?”

“Give me six months to help you repair the damage. You’re good at what you do and in all likelihood you’ll come out of it alive. You’ll get your reputation and the trust back. When we’re done, you’ll be just as respected as before if not more.”

“I’m an assassin for SHIELD. I don’t see how that will win me any fans.”

“Your work will be far more extensive than assassination. We can prepare you for a variety of field work including undercover. The situations you will be presented with are what makes most agents practically run the other way. My crew does the least desirable work, but we have results. Substantive results. “

“I think you’ll have to be a little more specific before I sign up.”

“Agent Barton, I shouldn’t have to spell out the lengths you may have to go to complete a mission.”

“Does Director Fury know about this?”

“I’ve never had a meeting with Director Fury. He knows we exist and like everyone else at SHIELD, prefers to look the other way. We represent the ugly side of our field. All Director Fury gets is our results.”

“Six months.” Clint sipped his coffee. This was something to consider. He could get back into the thick of the action. 

“Grant it, it’s longer than most, but we need to do significant repair work to your career. You’ll likely make a name for yourself in that time. You’ll have minor missions, but six months guarantees a minimum of four major operations where you’ll have the opportunity to shine. That’s our average.”

“And the minor missions?”

“They’re the dirty ones mostly. The major operations usually have us working hand-in-hand with other teams. We’ll still be doing the more undesirable work, but it’s an opportunity for you to make a name for yourself other than the one you currently have.”

_Traitor_ , Clint remembered. He’d heard the whispers more than once since his time with Loki. 

“Yeah, okay. I’ll do it.”

Fulbright stood and slid an envelope out of the inside pocket of his coat. “Here are your tickets and itinerary. I’ll meet you in Greece in two days.”

Clint nearly smiled. “You knew I’d do it. What would you have done if I turned you down?”

“Unlikely, but if you did I had no doubt you’d change your mind. I’ll see you in Greece.”

After he was gone, Clint sat in the chair. He didn’t want to think about how dirty these missions were going to get, but it was far better than sitting at home doing nothing. He pushed up and went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. He hadn’t shaved in nearly a week. Clint knew he looked like hell. 

He opened the medicine cabinet and took out a pill bottle. He had a lot to do today and needed to be alert. Clint downed two pills and drank water straight from the faucet. He was now ready to prepare for a mission.

~*~

Clint had his bag packed and sitting at the door. In a few hours, he’d be at the airport then on his way to Greece. He was still packing his carryon and had it on the bed. The knock at the door got his attention and when he opened it, he was surprised at seeing Nick Fury. 

“Sir.”

“I look like an asshole standing out here, Barton.”

Clint stepped aside and Nick entered the apartment. “Something I can do for you, sir? I’m on my way out of town.”

“I know. I got word an hour ago.”

“I figured you would’ve found out as soon as I accepted the offer. I got my tickets a couple of days ago.” Clint went to the fridge and he took out a beer. He wasn’t going to offer one to Fury.

“That’s because Fulbright knew I’d hall my ass over here to try to talk you out of it. He kept it under the radar until the last possible minute. Do you have any idea what you’re signing up for?”

“Sir, you know as well as I do people have figured out how not to work with me. Jenkins hasn’t returned any of my calls.”

“If that’s all there is, I can fix it with a phone call.”

“And how is that going to improve my situation, sir? The director of SHIELD will force me down the throats of SO’s. The first mission I’d find myself conveniently without back up or an extraction plan. SHIELD has some fucked up politics, sir, and you know it. You’ve navigated it for years.”

Fury knew he was right. He followed Clint into the bedroom and watched him finish packing a bag. “You’ve got another option.”

“What’s that?” Clint dropped some items in the bag. 

“Coulson’s team could always use another man.”

“No, sir.” Clint brought back a few more items from the bathroom. 

“Why not?”

“I’ve got good reasons.”

Fury glanced down at the bag and when he saw the pill bottles, he picked them up. After reading the labels, he clenched his teeth. Clint came over and took them out of his hands. 

“Adderall and Lunesta,” Fury said. “One to keep you awake and another to help you sleep.”

“They’re valid prescriptions.” Clint shoved them deep in the bag.

Fury stepped forward and grabbed Clint’s arm. “What’s going on with you?”

“You do anything to get in my way of doing my job, I’ll get Fulbright to go over your head to the council. I’m sure they’d be more than happy for me to take these shit missions if nothing else than just to hope I get brought back in a body bag.” Clint jerked away from him. 

There was no doubt that he’d do it. A few members of the council had already questioned keeping Clint Barton on SHIELD payroll. “Fine, Barton. I’m not one to force the issue. You’ve got a line straight to me if you need it.”

“Do me a favor, sir?”

“What?”

“Nat will find out. Tell her I’m cleaning my ledger. She’ll know what it means.”

“You should know one thing, Clint, before you meet Fulbright. The reason why he’s got the highest turnover rate in SHIELD isn’t just because he’s giving agents a leg-up in the system. No one else sends as many agents home in body bags as he does.”

“I know that, sir. That’s a rep no one can bury.”

“Good luck.”

When he was gone, Clint leaned against the wall. He had almost jumped on the offer of putting him on Coulson’s plane. If New York and Loki had never happened, he and Coulson would be living out a dream. Since the last time he saw Phil Coulson, he had learned to stop dreaming.

~*~

Phil Coulson stood at the foot of the ramp on the plane waiting for Tony Stark and Pepper Potts to exit the luxurious SUV. He smiled at their approach. Pepper was first and she kissed him on the cheek. 

“Phil, you look great.”

“Thank you. You wear Stark Industries CEO very well.”

“There are other things she wears well,” Tony replied. “How are you?”

Phil shook his hand. “Good. Let me give you the grand tour.”

As they walked in, Tony stopped at the car. “1962 Chevrolet Corvette. Your taste in cars is a surprise.”

“Surprise?”

“I pictured you a station wagon man.”

“Tony,” Pepper chided. 

After the tour, Phil guided the couple to his office. “So, what do you think of the Bus?”

“This is fantastic, Phil. You have a marvelous operation here. Doesn’t he, Tony?”

“Sure. It’s a little big, though. I have the same thing, you know. It’s a suit.”

Phil motioned for them to sit.

“Did you call us here for just a tour?” Pepper asked. 

“No. I need a favor and I want it kept out of SHIELD channels. It’s a difficult one and unique resources will be required.” He opened a drawer and took out a black notebook. Phil flipped a page and then turned the book around.

“Oh, my god,” Pepper said. “Your cards. Steve told me about them.”

“He offered to autograph them.”

Tony picked up the notebook and studied the cards. He hated the memory of thinking Phil was dead. He had so many regrets at that time. Appreciating Phil’s friendship was one of them. “Name it. You want Pepper’s job? It’s yours.”

Everyone knew Tony’s method of joking. Phil leaned forward and took the book back. He pointed to a card with some remaining blood splatter. “I don’t remember getting this card.”

“So?”

“I have detailed histories of each card in the set.”

“That’s a bit anal, isn’t it?” Tony asked.

“Not for a collector. Authentication is very important. It keeps collectors from buying fakes.”

“Do you think it’s a fake?” Pepper questioned.

“No. I had the paper and ink tested. It’s real. Considering how rare this particular card is, it has to have a history somewhere.”

“Why do you want to keep SHIELD out of it?” Pepper could sense more to the story than what Phil was telling them.

“It’s not their business.” Phil leaned back. “I don’t know if they’d tell me the complete truth.”

“You think they’re hiding something,” Tony guessed. He took his cellphone out and slid the card from its place in the notebook. A touch of a button and he scanned the front and back of the card. “It certainly wouldn’t be the first time SHIELD has kept secrets. Jarvis.”

“Sir, tracking its history will take considerable time given its age and potential gaps are likely to exist.”

“I’m patient,” Phil said.

Pepper leaned forward. Her face etched with concern. “Phil, are you okay?”

“Fine. We have to lift off soon for a mission.”

After everyone said their goodbyes, Pepper and Tony were settled in the backseat of the SUV. Pepper watched Coulson walk up the ramp back into the plane. 

“Something’s wrong with him?”

“Why do you say that?” Tony brought up the image of the Captain America card and began studying it.

“I don’t know. He’s different. We should talk to Clint. He might be able to help.”

“We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Under no circumstances are we to rock that particular boat, Pepper. Fury said no one could be sure how Coulson’s revival was going to play out. Besides, Coulson may be on his way to figuring out what happened to him without our interference.”

“You think a Captain America trading card is going to answer his questions.” The doubt was in her voice. 

“I don’t know how Fury managed to bring him back. All I know is that bringing people back from the dead is rarely a step in the right direction. If this card helps, I’ll give him the answers and let him handle it as he sees fit.”

“I hope it does, Tony.” Pepper laid her head on Tony’s shoulder. “He’s unhappy. Phil may hide it from everyone, but I can tell.”

Tony had nothing to add to that. Pepper was right. Phil had a tenseness about him. It was in his movements and how he constantly seemed to have so many doubts. That wasn’t the Coulson he knew.

~*~

The ferocity of the work Clint did on Fulbright’s team was not what he had bargained for. This was a new level of field work and the past two months was taking a toll. His first few assignments had been assassinations. Fulbright didn’t like the long distance shooting. He felt it was too unpredictable. Despite Clint’s deadly accuracy with any weapon handed to him, Fulbright preferred a more solid method of insuring the targets were killed. That meant up close and personal. 

It also meant that Clint worked without a bow. There was always a sense of freedom with the weapon. It was a part of him…a part of his soul. He would work without it, but not having it was akin to not having himself. Fulbright had told him to get used to the idea of leaving it at home, but Clint refused. He was not going to any assignment without his beloved bow. 

Clint would secure a handgun under on the inside of his jacket. He had learned how to keep it hidden from even the most thorough of pat down searches. A metal detector meant a new plan. One assignment had been suspected arms dealer supplying weapons to terrorists in Yemen. Clint had followed the man all the way to Bali. He cornered him in the bathroom of a noisy club and put two bullets in the back of his head. 

The movies would have you believe a silencer silenced a gunshot. In fact, all it did was suppress the sounds. It’s why Clint preferred noisy environments if he had to assassinate up close and personal. Another kill was at a noisy marketplace. He paid off an informant to start a fight and during the melee Clint planted several bullets in his target’s abdomen. He insured the man’s death by aiming for his liver. 

Fulbright congratulated him for his ingenuity.

“Another assassination, Barton,” Fulbright said. “This one we can’t miss. It’s part of a larger operation.”

Meeting at a hotel in London, Fulbright opened his laptop and brought up a photo of a Middle Eastern male. “This is Ahmed Nasir. He’s also called The Angel. He heads a charity that builds schools in the most dangerous regions of the world including Iraq and Libya. SHIELD has reason to believe this is a cover. There is evidence that he is directing weapons to various groups under the guise of transporting supplies to these schools.”

“Are they sure?” Clint asked.

“Reasonably. The groups moving these weapons are the same ones who supplied Obadiah Stane with Stark’s first iron suit. They may have access to the technology and this is part of a coordinated effort to take out the entire operation.”

“Reasonably doesn’t sound sure,” Clint told him. 

Fulbright ignored the concern and continued. “Ahmed takes walks around Greenwich Park on Saturday afternoons. His residency is too guarded for us to get inside.” Fulbright pulled up a map. “He’ll likely go through this tunnel. It’ll be your best opportunity.”

“He’ll be alone?”

“A walk helps him think, I’m told. He’ll have one bodyguard. I’ve taken measures to distract him. You’ll meet The Angel halfway and take him out.”

Something gnawed at Clint’s gut, but he ignored it. After Fulbright was gone, he opened up the case and gazed at his bow. Running his fingers along the handle, Clint wondered if there would be time for him to take in some target shooting. He needed some downtime desperately. These harsh missions were wearing on him. 

~*~

It was a bright sunny day in London. The sunshine felt good on the skin, but there was just a hint of coolness where a jacket felt comfortable. Clint had his shades on as he moved along the sidewalk. Far ahead of him was the tunnel Fulbright had told him about. People walked over it and a few tourists had stopped to check out the sites. 

Clint saw a man on the other side still in the sunlight. There was no doubt that was his target. He had just entered the tunnel at the same time as Ahmed. Clint reached inside his jacket and felt for the gun. He had his hand on it when Ahmed got closer. 

He froze at the sound of two laughing children running towards him. They went to Ahmed and that was when their eyes met. The world stopped in that moment and there was no doubt in Clint’s mind that Ahmed Nasir knew who he was. 

Ahmed stood never letting his eyes leave Clint’s face. He motioned for his bodyguard and then Clint was ready to pull out his gun. The language was unfamiliar to him and nothing shocked him more than when the bodyguard herded the children away. 

“I know why you are here,” Ahmed said. Seeing Clint unmoving and unsure, Ahmed pressed on. “My children will not witness what you are about to do.”

Suddenly, Clint had no idea why he was even here. He turned to leave.

“You can’t leave,” Ahmed told him. 

Clint stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “I can’t do it.”

“If it is not you, it will be someone else who has no care of my children or their safety. You must kill me.”

“No.”

“I knew when I began my work that there would be those who would do anything to stop it even if it meant staining my name with accusations of terrorism. My life would be short and I am prepared to die for it. I will not have my children tainted. If you do not do this thing, someone else will put the violence in their eyes. I am begging you to do this.”

Clint kept his grip on the gun. His hand hurt from the pain of it. He moved close to Ahmed. “I’m sorry.”

The three shots did the trick. Clint aimed one at Ahmed’s liver so he would bleed out and the other two went to the man’s spine so he wouldn’t feel the agony of dying. Clint helped him to the ground. By the time Ahmed was all the way down, he had lost consciousness. Clint walked away and once in the sunlight he looked back to the body. Ahmed was dead. There was no doubt about it. 

Running footsteps pounded in his ears and wailing cries echoed through the park. They were for the innocent man he had just killed.

Clint got back to the hotel and went to Fulbright’s room. As soon as the door opened, Clint grabbed Fulbright by the shirt and slammed him against the wall much to the shock of the team. 

“You fucking bastard! You lied to me!”

Fulbright motioned for the agents to settle down. “There was no choice. We couldn’t risk him contacting his people before SHIELD took them out.”

“He goes to the fucking park with his wife and kids, you son of a bitch! You knew it before you sent me in there!”

“You wouldn’t have gone otherwise.” 

He was right. Clint knew that and with the calmness in Fulbright’s voice, there was no doubt he had been manipulated to do the job. Clint let him go.

“Now, you know why we do what we do, Barton. You want out? There’s the door, but remember what you’re walking back into if you leave here.”

This world or that one. It didn’t matter anymore. Clint took a seat in the nearest chair and Fulbright began briefing them on their next mission. 

~*~

Nick Fury was headed to a meeting that he hated. The council heads were on him about budgetary concerns and at that moment he wished he was an ordinary field agent. His assistant caught up with him in the hallway and handed him a file. 

Fury kept walking as he read it and then stopped in his tracks. “Goddamn it.”

He did an about face and headed back to his office. 

“Sir, what about the meeting?” 

As he passed his secretary, Fury barked, “Get me Agent Less Fulbright right now! I don’t care if he’s on the crapper!”

It took less than two minutes before Fulbright’s image appeared on the screen. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Fulbright?”

“Director Fury, if you’ll explain the question I might be able to answer you.”

“I gave strict orders not to move on Ahmed Nasir until we had confirmation he was directly involved in moving those weapons.”

“The evidence linking his organization to those weapons is indisputable, Director.”

“Which means any one of Nasir’s people could have done it without his knowledge, Fulbright.”

“Sir, you are well aware I don’t take orders from you. I get my directions from SHIELD Intelligence which operates fully beyond your jurisdiction.”

“This report says he was taken out in Greenwich Park. He takes his family to Greenwich Park. You fucking did this in front of his kids?”

“I was assured the children were removed from the situation.”

Fury was taken aback. That wasn’t what he expected to hear. “Agent Barton. You sent him.”

“Agent Barton fulfilled his duties, Director.”

Fury planted his fists on his desk and leaned forward. “I swear to God all that’s fucking holy, Fulbright. You gut Agent Barton and you will answer to me. You got it?”

Before he could answer, Fury shut off the comm. “Motherfucker!”

When Fury turned around he was looking at Phil Coulson. In his anger, he had forgotten to shut the door. “Agent Coulson. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“We’ve finished the new Extremis research. I knew you’d want the reports ASAP.”

“Yeah.”

Phil handed Fury the file. “Sir, was that Agent Fulbright you were talking to?”

“Yeah, the bastard had a target taken out damn near in front of his family.”

“Fulbright’s notorious for his unconventional ways,” Phil told him. “He was always a side of SHIELD I never wanted to see.”

“Phil, Agent Barton is on Fulbright’s team.”

“Really?”

Fury’s eyebrows furrowed together at not seeing the concern he expected. “What?”

“Agent Barton didn’t strike me as the type. I suppose it takes all kinds.”

“What the hell is the matter with you, Coulson?” Fury exploded. “Clint Barton got the mind-fuck of a century by a demi-god and since then he’s on a mission to wipe his slate clean with SHIELD even if it means carving the soul out of his chest! He put his ass on the line with the goddamn Avengers and you stand there and say “it takes all kinds”? Get the hell out of my office and read those fucking New Mexico reports again. Maybe you won’t be so cavalier about Hawkeye.”

Phil Coulson couldn’t believe the verbal lashing he had just received from Director Nick Fury. This was the man that helped get him into SHIELD and made sure he had every opportunity to prove himself. Fury was acting as if he should have known Clint Barton better. 

Without saying a word, Phil turned around and headed to the airfield. Once on the Bus, he went to Skye. “I need the reports about New Mexico, Thor and the hammer. Everything.”

She left to do as he asked. He turned his attention to Lola and remembered how Clint had refused to touch the car. He looked over at May. 

“What’s wrong?” May asked.

“Director Fury read me the riot act like I was a new recruit. He called me Phil.”

“Why?”

“Agent Barton is working for Fulbright.”

“God,” May said with dread. “The stories we heard about him in the academy made me thankful I never went near him.”

“Me, too. I was warned away from Fulbright several times. His unorthodox style helped bury a lot of agents.”

“What is it about Barton then?”

“Director Fury somehow thought I should know better about Agent Barton.”

“You didn’t?”

“I haven’t thought about New Mexico in a while.”

“AC, those files are on your laptop in your office,” Skye said as she went to him. 

“Get everything on Agent Clint Barton, too.”

When he walked away, Skye looked at May. “What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know.” May was starting to worry this time.

~*~

This part of town was notorious and popular for male prostitution. Minsk, Belarus was not the metropolitan city Clint had remembered, but this time his mission was considerably different. Since the assassination in London, he was starting to get used to the messiness. He figured that was a bad sign. His drinking had considerably increased and his sleeping habits were nonexistent these days. 

The assignment: Find Dmitri Golov. He was a paid dealer who was in the process of making a deal for a dirty bomb to be transported to Kiev and planted at an unknown embassy. Time was of the essence. The only inside track was Golov’s taste for male prostitutes.

Clint could still remember Fulbright’s words. “ _You can’t afford to be squeamish, Barton. I don’t care if you fuck him or if he fucks you. Get that information and kill the bastard_.”

_Fine_ , Clint told himself. He’d gone down this road before, more times than he would ever tell a soul. So here he stood in the aftermath of a thick rain waiting with another male prostitute who had proven to have an inside track to Dmitri Golov. 

Alexei had told him that Dmitri liked them pretty and young. With a tilt of his head, Alexei wasn’t sure if Clint looked young enough, but the prettiness might be enough he told him. Clint was paying the male prostitute a small fortune to help get him in good with Golov.

Clint kept his spot on the busy street and acted uninterested whenever he had caught a potential client’s eye. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep the act up much longer. Alexei tapped him on the arm and pointed.

Dmitri Golov was large man in his forties. Not overweight, but pure muscle. His size was intimidating and Clint had serious doubts he could handle the man. He schooled his face to the right expression. Not too eager, with enough innocence.

When he got a wave from Dmitri, he didn’t know if he should be frightened or relieved. Clint went to him and his hand was grabbed. 

“I am told you are American.”

“Yeah.”

The thick hand touched his chest and Dmitri had a heavy laugh. “You young, pretty American. Let’s see how well your American mouth works, mal’chik.”

Clint was pulled to an alley and pushed to his knees. The pounding in his chest felt so noisy in his ears that he would swear everyone could hear it. 

Dmitri undid his pants. “Get to work, mal’chik.”

The thick beefy cock was semi-hard and Clint took a deep breath before wrapping his lips around it. He managed to get the hardening organ inside, but only a few inches. If he was going to a chance at a second act, he would need to put on a show.

Clint used his tongue and cradled Dmitri’s hefty balls in his hand. The cock was pumping in his mouth and when he knew it was time for ejaculation Clint squeezed the testicles and pushed the organ farther back in his mouth until he couldn’t breathe. 

His head was grabbed and his mouth was fucked. Clint thought he was going to pass out and he nearly choked on the thick semen hitting the back of this throat. 

Afterwards, he remained on his knees coughing trying to catch his breath. A wad of cash was dropped on the ground in front of him. 

“Good job, mal’chik. I may fuck you next time.”

He grabbed the money and after Golov was gone, Clint crawled further down the alley and threw up. The vomiting seemed to go on forever even when there was nothing left in his stomach.

“My, my, my. You have debased yourself to an extreme, Agent Barton.”

Clint wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s been a while Loki. Still locked up on Asgard?”

“I’ve missed you, too,” Loki said with a sharp grin. “Isn’t that why you stopped medicating yourself?”

Clint sat up on his knees and turned his attention to the image of Loki. “You’re only in my fucking head, Loki. You have no real power.”

“Neither do you, Agent Barton. We should celebrate our powerlessness and our reunion. Perhaps you should find another client. I’ll watch.”

“Fuck you, Loki.” Clint got to his feet and started walking. “It’s liberating to know that you’re not only imprisoned on Asgard, but also in my head, too. You can fuck with me to your heart’s content, but no one else.”

“You prefer it,” Loki said keeping pace with Clint. “Your role in assisting my attempt at conquering Earth has helped build a prison where you and I can spend tangible quality time together.”

“Soon as I get to my room, I’m getting blinding drunk, you son of a bitch. Let’s see how much quality time you get out of that.”

Loki crossed in front of Clint and stopped him in his tracks. “Do you think that will stop me, you lumbering dolt! As long as you are alive I will torment you for your betrayal of me! I’ll do it until you take one of your pathetic human weapons, stick it in your mouth and blow out the back of your skull!”

“Get away from me!” Clint screamed. 

Clint covered his ears, but Loki’s laugh got louder and louder as he collapsed to his knees.

~*~

Two nights later, Dmitri returned and this time he took Clint to a luxury hotel. As Clint was led inside, his eyes scanned the room and settled on a locked briefcase. There was no doubt the information was sitting inside. 

Dmitri yanked him to the bed. “Come, mal’chik. Get your clothes off.”

The lack of preliminaries reminded Clint of his intended duties. He had to find a way to that briefcase, get out of the hotel and make his way to the rendezvous. Hopefully Fulbright would be waiting for him. 

After laying his jacket across a chair, he got his shirt off and as he was sliding off the jeans, he glanced at Dmitri. The heavy cock hung low and Clint knew the thing would split him open. He was pushed to the floor and took the dick in his hand. Clint had hoped to get Dmitri off fast with his mouth, but the big Russian wouldn’t have it.

Clint was put across the bed and his legs spread wide. The Russian grabbed his hips and yanked him close. The thick organ began forcing its way inside and he grunted trying to relax to make the unwanted intrusion easier. 

Once the cock was all the way in, Clint felt the sweat pouring off his face from the exertion. The pain in his ass was overwhelming. He didn’t dare move to even grab his own cock in order to find some pleasure. 

The thick organ moved in and out of him and he grimaced with each thrust. “Oh, god!”

“Good, mal’chik,” Dmitri praised. “Pain is good.”

“Fuck, stop it!” Clint said. “Please.”

“No, mal’chik. You take it all until I say.” For good measure, Dmitri thrust harder.

Clint clamped his mouth tight to keep from crying out. He now realized why this bastard wanted them young. He enjoyed their pain and no way in hell would he give him that. That only served to anger the Russian and his hair was grabbed by a fist and the other hand yanked on his nipple. 

“Scream for me, mal’chik. Scream or Dmitri will fuck you raw.”

It was clear on how to end it. Clint released the cry he had been holding onto so that the pain would stop. The pounding in is rectum worsened and Dmitrii let loose a lion’s roar as he ejaculated into Clint’s abused body. 

Clint collapsed on the bed and he heard Dmitri in the bathroom. His eyes went to the briefcase again and then to the chair where his jacket was laying. He didn’t think he’d make it to his gun before Dmitri got to him. 

He pushed his sore body up and reached for his underwear. On the nightstand was a sharp letter opener. Clint was relieved. He had his weapon. 

“You clean and come back to bed, mal’chik. Dmitri not through with you.”

“Yeah, okay.” Clint would give the impression of compliance. He went to the bathroom and cleaned up as best he could. He kept his eyes away from the blood he knew was coming off of him. 

When he finished, he went to the bed and heard the snore of the large Russian. Clint decided to angle to his jacket after his gun. Suddenly, Dmitri rolled over and held out his hand. 

“Come, mal’chik.”

Clint moved closer and just when he was about ready to get into bed, he grabbed the letter opener and plunged it into Dmitri’s shoulder. The man howled with pain and grabbed after Clint. Before he could, Clint scrambled away and grabbed the lamp from the table. He threw it at the giant Russian and that was when he saw the Makarov pistol on the far table. 

Clint lunged for it and he fired off three shots hitting Dmitri in the chest. The Russian dropped dead and Clint hurried to the briefcase. He knew his time was short. The shots would have been heard by security. He used the handgun to open the briefcase and once opened he grabbed the flash drive. 

Without a second through, Clint swallowed the flash drive. He prayed it would hold up in his gut. After grabbing his clothes, Clint rushed out of the room and at seeing the elevator open, he opted for the stairs. Clint hurried down three floors, went through another door and found a corner to dress. Once he finished, he took the elevator and at the ground floor he barreled out of the hotel with Russian security on his tail. 

When he finally got to the rendezvous, Clint breathed a sigh of relief. Only when he looked around no one was there. No car…nothing. The lot was empty. They had promised to wait for him. 

“Goddamn it,” he breathed. 

Russian voices yelling got his attention and he saw Alexei pointing in his direction. “Fuck!”

The punk had sold him out to the Russian mob. There was no running this time.

~*~

The files had nothing in them Coulson realized. He wasn’t sure what he expected to find. Looking back at his reaction to the news of Clint Barton working with one of the most notorious agents of SHIELD, he was beginning to question himself. Everything that had happened since before New York had been off. It was as if he constantly remained off balance and he didn’t know why. 

Phil closed the laptop and rubbed his eyes. He looked over at May. “What?”

“Fury needs us in New York ASAP.”

“Did he say why?” She shook her head. Phil stood and took a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’ve gone over everything since New Mexico involving Clint Barton and I can’t find a thing.”

“What are you looking for?”

“I don’t know. The reports are so impersonal. Usually I like to add a personal observation. There is nothing.”

“Maybe there was nothing to add.”

“I feel like I should know him better.”

“Who?”

“Barton. He came here once. Did I tell you?”

“When was that?”

“Several months ago. I had a meeting with Fury. He came on board, looked at Lola.” Phil smiled a little. “Refused to even touch her. It was like he knew not to. We talked about the Bus and had a couple of beers.”

“It sounds like you two hit it off.”

“I don’t know, May. He couldn’t wait to leave. I think he expected more, but was disappointed.”

“Next time you should get to know him better. Maybe it’ll settle these doubts you’re having.”

“Yeah, I hope so.” After she was gone, Phil went to his desk and opened his laptop. He studied Clint’s face closely. Without a doubt there was something missing here and he had no idea what it was.

~*~

The plane landed at a SHIELD airstrip and as soon as the ramp opened, Fury, Natasha, Tony and Steve walked up the ramp. Behind them followed Bruce.

“Fulbright’s on his way,” Phil informed the group. “He should be here in a few minutes.”

“Any news?” Natasha asked.

“No.” Phil led them to operations and on the monitor were copies of the mission objectives and several photos. “This is Dmitri Golov, an arms dealer who was brokering a transaction in order for an operation to be carried out in the Ukraine. He was found dead following Agent Barton’s disappearance with a knife to the shoulder and three bullets square in the chest.”

A photo of Dmitri’s body was brought up. “Skye hacked central intelligence in Belarus and managed to get these photos. He was found naked in his hotel.”

Natasha stepped closer to the screen. “Look at the spacing of those rounds. This was Clint. He killed him.”

“Are you sure,” Steve asked. 

“I know his work,” she told them. 

“The condition of that room indicates a hell of a fight,” Tony observed. “Clint fought back at whatever was happening.”

Fulbright arrived and he handed Skye a flash drive. “This will give you an idea of what happened.”

She pulled up a video feed from inside the hotel. It showed Clint running out of the lobby and then it switched to an outdoor camera where he ran into the night.

“I didn’t see the flash drive in his hand. Did you?” Fulbright asked.

“Flash drive?” Fury asked. “What exactly what he was doing there, Agent Fulbright?”

“Dmitri had intel about a dirty bomb buy. He goes to Minsk for two reasons; for weapons deals and for its robust male prostitute trade.”

“You mean to tell me you sent Clint Barton in to get into bed with Dmitri Golov?” Phil said with a lethal soft voice. 

“I don’t have to explain myself to you, Agent Coulson,” Fulbright said between clenched teeth. 

“If we don’t get Barton out of there in one piece, you will answer to me you piece of shit,” Fury vowed. 

Bruce stormed from the room and Natasha hurried after him. It seemed that since New York, she had become one of the few people able to help the man get a handle on his rage. 

“Skye,” Tony said. “Will you please give Jarvis access to the Bus’ systems? He’s throwing a fit in my ear. It seems you’re damn good.”

“Yep.” Skye left. 

“So, how do we find him?” Steve asked. 

It was Fury’s turn to bring up the next scan. “It’s an old abandoned apartment building on the outskirts of the city. Satellite can’t pinpoint Barton’s location.”

“We can bring the Bus in low enough for thermal imaging,” Phil added.

“If you can tell him apart from the rest of the bad guys, we should be in fine shape,” Tony sarcastically offered.

“If I may,” Simmons said from the door. The slender young woman stepped into the room. “Forgive my bringing down the room so to speak, but it’s a possible he may have been or is being tortured. We can scan for vitals and thermal imaging will reflect an increase in temperature if infection has set in. An elevated heart rate may indicate dehydration. If his we modify our thermal imaging to detect bone density, we can scan for broken bones…”

“Simmons,” Phil interrupted. “Thank you. We get the idea. You and Fitz get on those modifications.”

“Coulson, you have a hell of a team here,” Steve told him. “I am impressed.”

Looking at the building, Tony said, “We have clear line of sight of the outer entrances. Cap and I can hit from the South.”

“Ward, May and I will cover the other entrances,” Phil stated. “We’ll bring the Bus in low over the building once everyone is aware of our presence. Natasha can help provide cover from the ramp once we get to the roof with Agent Barton.”

“I’m the pilot,” Fury guessed.

The entire room looked at Fulbright who had not volunteered a thing. Once he was gone, Skye said, “Can you think of anyone you wouldn’t want to be right now?”

~*~

In Avenger fashion, Captain America and Iron Man made quick work of getting inside the building. They were guided by the Bus’ modifications with May, Ward and Coulson. It was Agent Grant Ward who discovered the room Clint was being held. He took out the two Russians guarding him. 

“I’ve got him,” Grant announced. “5th floor.”

“On our way,” Tony answered. 

While the rest of the SHIELD agents made a clear path to the roof, Iron Man hefted an unconscious Clint over his shoulder. He and Grant managed to fight their way to the roof. Under heavy fire everyone got to the plane.

As it lifted off, Clint was carried into a medical bay. Bruce turned to the hovering friends. “We’ll take care of him,” he promised. 

“What about the flash drive?” Fulbright asked. “Did anyone get the flash drive?”

Before Fury could make a move, Coulson had beaten him to the punch. He had Fulbright against the wall with a gun to his throat. “You want that damn drive? I’ll toss you out of this airplane so you can find it.”

Nothing could have shocked the group more than seeing mild mannered Agent Phil Coulson explode at a fellow SHIELD agent.

~*~

It was an over an hour later and the group still waited for word of Clint’s condition. Phil paced the floor and no one spoke as they watched him move back and forth. 

Tony got up and met Phil near the bar. “You’re making me dizzy, friend.”

“Any word about the card?” Phil asked

“Funny you should ask. It seems we’re hitting a dead end.”

“What happened?”

Steve couldn’t sit not knowing what Tony and Phil were talking about. “Is this a conversation you should be sharing with the rest of us?”

“No,” Tony answered. “Well, you since it’s your picture.”

“My picture?”

“Your trading cards,” Phil told him. “One of them I don’t remember ever getting. I want to know how it got in my possession.”

“And you found something,” Steve said to Tony.

“As I was telling Coulson, we’re at a dead end. The printing press where the cards were made suffered a catastrophic fire in 1952. The original plates were destroyed in the fire,” Tony explained.

“So, that’s the end of it?” Steve asked.

“Not quite. Your sacrifice for God and country drove your popularity to new heights and these series of cards were getting printed at a phenomenal rate. They had planned several more series of cards when the fire hit and that particular card was at the beginning of its initial printing. It’s believed that no more than a thousand made it out of the warehouse.”

“It should make it easier for tracking with so few,” Phil said. 

“Believed is a big word in this story,” Tony told them. “The cold war was beginning to rage, the economy couldn’t decide if it was going to expand or implode. Captain America was becoming the anti-communist mantra and McCarthy had waved your photo declaring how much of an American you were.”

“You’re getting off track,” Steve told him. 

“No, I’m well on track,” Tony said. “Your image was becoming a media firestorm and someone decided to put a stop to it.”

“The fire was arson,” Phil surmised.

“Not only that.” Tony’s gaze went from Phil to Steve. “I think my father burned that printing press down to the ground and made sure all the plates were destroyed.”

“Tony,” Phil said. “Your father was an entrepreneur and a champion of the working class. An arsonist?”

“Here is where you, Captain America, will just find a new reason to hate me all the more.”

“Do I need a new reason?” Steve asked.

“My father copyrighted your image. He kept McCarthy from making you the anti-communist poster boy.”

“I guess I should thank him.”

“Probably  not,” Tony told him. “I inherited the copyright.” Tony turned to Phil. “That’s where the story ends. I don’t have any other way of tracing that card’s history.”

After he walked away, Steve looked at Phil. “He owns my image? What does that mean?”

“That means you’re making him richer than he already is,” Phil answered with a half-smile. 

“But that doesn’t mean he owns me, does he? But if he owns my face…” Steve scratched his head and looked over at Tony who had the smuggest look that he had ever seen on another human being.

Bruce and Simmons entered the room and everyone immediately got to their feet. 

“How is he?” Natasha asked. 

“He’s good,” Bruce said. “He got banged around pretty good. No broken bones or internal injuries. They attempted to use drugs to get him to talk, but I don’t think they got far. The levels were pretty high. We’re working on getting those out of his system right now.”

“In six hours he should be free of the psychotropic drugs,” Simmons added. 

“When can we see him?” Phil said. 

“He’s wiped out. He won’t be talking to anyone for some time,” Bruce answered. “You all should get some rest.”

When the others moved away, Phil came forward. “Can I just see him, Bruce?”

“I told you…”

“I know. I just…”

“Sure. Come on.”

When Phil saw him, he smiled a little. “He looks like a kid.”

Bruce couldn’t add any more. What he did know about Clint’s condition prevented him from saying anything. Patient confidentiality still applied. 

“You can sit here with him if you’d like.”

Phil got a chair and eased down. As he watched Clint sleep, he wondered why he suddenly felt the need to make sure the agent was okay. It wasn’t that long ago, he wasn’t giving the man a second thought and now he couldn’t tear his eyes away from him. Questions were adding up in his life and answering them seemed to get more difficult day by day. 

~*~

When Clint opened his eyes, he was confused. He started to panic and a hand on his arm got his attention. Phil Coulson stood up near the bed. 

“Easy, you’re okay.”

“Where am I?”

“New York City. Specifically the Bus. We were able to rescue you from the people who were holding you.”

“I don’t remember much of anything after they took me.” Clint rubbed his eyes.

Phil got a cup of ice water and handed it to him. “My team and a few of the Avengers pulled you out. How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Sore.” Clint sat up and stretched his aching arms. 

Phil’s eyes went to the bruises. “Everyone is here waiting for you to wake up.”

“Do you have anything I can wear?”

“I’m sure Agent Ward will have something. I’ll be right back.”

After he left, Clint swung his legs over the side of the bed. He ached all over.

Bruce saw his patient awake and came over. “Do you need something for pain?” 

“I want nothing more than a shower and my own bed for a month.”

“Clint, I didn’t tell them what happened to you. I didn’t even put it in your SHIELD record.”

Clint remembered Dmitri’s brutal session. “I wasn’t raped.”

“There is bruising…”

“He was a huge motherfucker, Bruce, and he liked it rough. I was doing a job. Speaking of which, I need a laxative.”

“Already taken care of. A scan showed the drive and we did a gastroscopy to remove it. Simmons is readying it for Fulbright.”

“Thanks.” Clint was relieved. 

Phil returned with a change of clothes. “These should fit you.”

Clint slid off the bed and stripped off the hospital gown. “Thanks.”

Phil hated the bruising, but he saw past that and the firm body struck a familiar chord in him. He couldn’t put his finger on it. He shifted his gaze away. 

“Agent Fury is going to talk to you.”

“Yeah, I’ve no doubt about it.” Clint finished and straightened. It would take a few days for the soreness to abate. He had to get out of here.

~*~

Outside the Bus on the tarmac, the teams stood waiting for Clint. Fulbright was near his SUV waiting as well. When Simmons came out with a small case, Fury took it from her and went to Fulbright. 

“You ever leave another agent behind and I will end you,” Fury warned Fulbright.

“What?” Clint thought he misheard. 

“We had no choice,” Fulbright told him. “Our position was found out. We knew we could get you out, Barton.”

“Of course, he waited as long as he could,” Tony added. His eyes locked with Fulbright’s. “A full four minutes after the prearranged pickup.”

Clint was having a tough time swallowing the truth. He was ready to take Fulbright’s head off. 

Natasha came to Clint and took his hands in hers. “Clint, Fury will put us on missions together. Remember how often we used to do that in the old days?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“What do you think she would say, Agent Barton?” Loki asked in a whispered voice in his ear.

Clint ignored him. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Fury asked. 

“Of course, if your friends and fellow agents ever discovered how desperate you were…” Loki left the insinuation hanging. 

“I’m sorry,” he told the group. Clint averted his eyes to get Loki’s form out of sight. 

“Dr. Banner,” Fury said. “What is Agent Barton’s physical condition?”

“Exhaustion and dehydration. He needs recuperation time,” Bruce answered.

“Dr. Simmons, do you concur?” Fury asked. 

“Absolutely,” Simmons answered. “A week at least…possibly more.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Clint asked the group.

“They’re trying to help you,” Coulson told him. “You don’t have to go with him.”

“Agent Fulbright,” Fury said. “You are officially notified that Agent Barton will require at least a week to recuperate per physicians orders and that you can’t override.”

“Fine,” Fulbright acquiesced. “He’s got his week. He needs it after what he’s been through.”

“More than that, I’d guess,” Coulson said to no one in particular. 

The last thing anyone wanted to see was Clint getting into the car with Fulbright. After they were gone, Fury cursed. 

“Sir,” Coulson said. “I don’t think Agent Barton will survive another mission with Fulbright.”

“I know how to fix that,” Tony offered. “The President owes me big after saving the world and all.”

“You can’t,” Natasha told him. 

“Why not?” Tony asked.

“Clint will run. He hasn’t had a reason to stop. Taking Fulbright out of the equation won’t change the path he’s on.”

“She’s right,” Phil said. “He’ll find another Fulbright.”

The group slowly moved back into the plane feeling more powerless than ever. The only one who didn’t was Phil Coulson. He saw the SUV in the far distance and made a decision. Clint Barton was getting a visitor in the very near future.

May came over and stood watching the SUV disappear. “The Bus needs a diagnostic. We’ll be in the air in a couple of hours.”

“You’ve had trouble with one of the engines,” Coulson said. 

“What?”

“I don’t know which one since the electronics had some issues before our trip to Russia. How long do you think repairs could take?”

There was no mistaking what Phil was doing. May wasn’t about to stand in his way. “At least a week.”

“Good.” He turned and looked at her. “Make sure you keep the maintenance crews busy.”


	2. Chapter 2

During the drive back to his apartment, Clint looked in the rearview mirror and saw Loki’s reflection. He shifted his gaze out the window. 

“We’ve got a few major operations coming up next month, Barton,” Fulbright told him. “There is a suspected Chitauri egg in upstate New York. An extremist group got their hands on it. I think you might be able to infiltrate it.”

“Sir, I think it’s time I moved on,” Clint told him. 

“You are among your own kind, Agent Barton,” Loki said. 

“We lost Baker. I’m a man short. Give me some time before you make a move.”

Clint clenched his hand into a fist. “A few more weeks. After that I’m done.”

“You’re a vital member of this team, Barton. I don’t want to lose you.”

“And you want to abandon your brothers again?” Loki whispered in his ear. 

Clint closed his eyes and wished for a few large drinks. Numbing his mind was his only protection against Loki’s mental torture. 

“A month. That’s the best I can do.”

Fulbright smiled. “You won’t be sorry, Barton. After this you might get your own team. You’ve done some damn good work.”

It was a lie. That much was clear.

“Did you leave me, sir?” Clint asked. 

“We had no choice. I told you what happened.”

When the car finally stopped, he got out and without another word to Fulbright he went into his apartment. After getting his mail, he began sorting through it and watched Loki appear sitting in a chair. 

“It’s good to be home,” Loki announced. “These drab mortal furnishings do make one want burn the place down, but it’s home nonetheless.”

Clint slapped the mail down and went into the kitchen. After searching through the cabinets, he found what he was looking for. 

“What’s this?” Loki said as he walked over. He leaned over and studied the lettering. “I have been studying your language. What is Wild Turkey?”

Clint poured a double and downed it. “You know damn well what it is. My medication is in Russia and this’ll have to do until I can get more. I’ll get you out of my fucking head if it means staying constantly drunk.”

Loki then laughed. “What a fool you’ve become, Agent Barton. You will never rid yourself of me. This spirit may subdue my presence in your subconscious, but I will never leave. We both will remain in the prison of our own making until you are dead.”

Clint poured another drink and downed it. “Fuck off.”

He headed to the bedroom at the sound of Loki’s laughter. 

~*~

Phil wanted to make sure that Clint had gotten the needed rest before seeing him. He arrived at the apartment and stared at the door. He had no idea why he was even here. Why he was getting so emotionally involved with the conflicted Agent Clint Barton was beyond his understanding. He had no idea where his heavy-handed reaction to Fulbright’s statement had come from. 

Now, he was making up lies about engine trouble just so they could remain on the ground. 

Taking a deep breath, he knocked and when the door opened, his voice caught in his throat at the site of Clint without a shirt. 

“I..uh.”

Clint couldn’t believe it. Phil Coulson was stuttering again. “Would you like to come in?”

“Yes, thank you. I brought some Thai. Your case file said you preferred it.”

“Thanks.” Clint took the bag from Phil and set it on the counter. He turned his head half expecting Loki to make an appearance. “I missed lunch.”

“I know this is unexpected, but I wanted to see how you were doing?”

Clint stepped away from the kitchen and looked in the bedroom. Loki had been here a few minutes ago.

“Is something wrong?” Phil asked. 

“No. Give me a second and I’ll get a shirt on.” Clint hurried into the bedroom and checked the bathroom. He found a shirt and slipped it on as he went to the kitchen.

Coulson had already found the dishes. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, it’s good. I’ve got a burgundy that’ll go great with dinner.” While he was getting the glasses and the wine, Coulson was setting the table. This was the domestic scene Clint had fantasized about.

The dinner was pleasurable with the kind of conversation that SHIELD agents don’t have. Sports, food and other mundane topics dominated the meal. Afterwards, they took the dishes to the kitchen. 

Suddenly, Phil stopped and gazed at Clint while he set the plates in the sink. He didn’t miss a beat as he went to the man and turned him around. 

Before Clint could say a word, Phil’s lips were on his. No, it wasn’t shock that hit him. It was instant need and love. Clint pushed Phil against the wall and took his mouth in a thorough kiss. He worked the jacket halfway off and then his hands went to Phil’s pants. 

“Wait!” Phil said.

Clint stepped back. “What? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“No, it’s okay. I want this,” Phil assured him. “Just let me. Okay?”

Speechless, Clint nodded. 

Phil removed his jacket and then slid off his tie. After he took off his shirt, he stepped close to Clint. “I need time with you. I want to get to know you, Clint.”

Clint nearly went to his knees at hearing Phil say his name. He never thought he’d hear it again. He was on the verge of blurting out how much he still loved Phil, but fear kept him from saying it. He wasn’t about to risk fracturing the moment.

After Phil kicked off his shoes, he took Clint by the hand and guided him to the bedroom. At the bed, Phil gave Clint a heated kiss wanting to know his taste. He broke the contact and then stepped back. 

Phil took his time undressing Clint. He would not rush this moment. Once he finished, he ran his hands over Clint’s chest down to his hips. The thick erection was ready for him already and Phil nearly smiled as he went to his knees.

Once the cock was inside Phil’s mouth being worked, Clint groaned. “God, that feels good.”

He put his hand on Phil’s face and touched the lips surrounding his cock. He wanted to feel the intimate contact between them. When it stopped, he nearly lost it. “Shit!”

“Easy, babe,” Phil whispered. He pumped on the organ a few times, then got to his feet. He took Clint to the bed and laid him down. After Phil removed the remainder of his clothes, he crawled over Clint and settled his hips into his lover’s. 

They kissed again and Phil used the opportunity to taste Clint’s skin. The spicy skin turned him on even more and he moved his cock against Clint’s. “God, I want you.”

“Fuck me,” Clint breathed. “Please.”

Phil raised his head. “Are you sure?”

“If you don’t fuck me right now I’m gonna explode all over this fucking bed.”

Phil smiled a little. “We wouldn’t want that now, would we?”

Phil helped Clint to his stomach and eased his cock inside. He was careful in his movements and stopped when Clint cursed.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Damn it, Phil. I want you fuck me, baby. Not fuck like an old lady driving a Studebaker.”

Phil leaned over and kissed Clint’s back. “You’re amazing.”

He then proceeded to give Clint exactly what he wanted. They rocked their hips together moving as one as if they had always fit as natural as a pearl sits in her shell. The steady pace began increasing and as their orgasm hit, the crescendo of their lovemaking reached an all-time high. 

“Clint!” Phil felt dizzy with the high he had hit once he came. He leaned over and kissed Clint’s back. The salty taste of sweat was good. 

“Fucking incredible.” Clint breathed. “Maybe 20 years from now I’ll be up for another round.

“Better be sooner than that,” Phil said with a bit of a laugh. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just give me a sec.”

Phil slowly pulled out and helped Clint lay down. “I’ll get us a towel.”

Clint smiled as he pulled a pillow beneath his head. This was a dream that he had never thought possible again. He heard Phil in the bathroom wetting the cloth and the coolness of it felt good. 

“Thanks.”

Phil smiled and finished up. He got back into bed and moved close to Clint. “Regrets?”

“Not in a million years.”

“I didn’t come over for this. Hell, I’m not sure why I came over. I’m glad I did.”

“Do you want to stay?” Clint asked

“I’m here for as long as you want me.”

_How about fucking forever_ , Clint thought. “I cook a mean pancake.”

During the night, Clint had no idea when, Phil moved on top of him and made love to him at a slow easy pace. Their hips moved as one and when it was over, Phil cleaned him up again. He was half asleep and when Phil pulled him close, Clint rolled into his arms. 

It was the best sleep he had gotten in months. 

~*~

The next morning it was a lazy shower together. Clint swore that shower sex should be a requirement. Phil declared he was doing his duty.

Afterwards, Clint was in the kitchen working on the pancakes while Phil shaved. He smiled as he mixed the batter. _This was how it was supposed to be._

~*~

In the bathroom, Phil finished shaving and wiped the small bits of shaving cream from his face. _I could get used to this_ , he thought.

He was going to wear his shirt again, but thought better of it. “Clint,” Phil called out. “Can you loan me a shirt?”

“Second drawer!”

Phil opened a drawer and saw that it was full of underwear. He went to another which had shorts and sweats. “Come on,” Phil muttered. 

At seeing a tall dresser, Phil opened it and a shirt had caught the top drawer. He managed to straighten out the mess and get a blue t-shirt. He got it on and when he was about to close both drawers his eyes went to an envelope. Normally, he would have ignored it, but the return address was an exclusive memorabilia store in New York City. He couldn’t count the times he had gone in there in search of Captain America keepsakes.

Phil picked up the envelope and slid out the papers. He had to sit on the bed when he saw what they were. Authentication paperwork for a very specific Captain America trading card was before him. He couldn’t believe it.

“Phil, pancakes are almost ready!”

It took a moment for him to get his breath and when he did, he finally got up and finished dressing. Phil took the papers into the kitchen and watched Clint whose back was to him.

“I’m telling you, man, these pancakes are the best,” Clint said. “Perfectly fluffy. I’m a fucking master.”

Clint turned around and seeing the serious look on Phil’s face he put the spatula aside. “What’s wrong?”

Without saying a word, Phil set the papers on the counter. Clint knew what they were before he even touched them. He opened them up. Inside was proof of authenticity and a receipt. His feet nearly gave away as the world came crashing down around him. 

“I want to know why.” Phil demanded in a level voice. “Why did you lie to me?”

Clint swallowed the thick lump in his throat. He blinked back the tears. “I can’t tell you.”

“What do you mean you can’t tell me! That card came from you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Phil, just wait a sec and try to understand.”

“Did you give me the card?” When he didn’t answer, Phil stepped forward. “Answer the question, Clint.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“When?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Sounds more like won’t.” 

“Oh, a lover’s quarrel,” Loki said with delight.

Clint closed his eyes. The last thing he needed was Loki. He was on the verge of screaming at him, but didn’t.

“Why don’t I remember?” It was obvious that Clint knew much more than what he was telling. “Clint!”

“I don’t know.”

“Does it have something to do with what happened after I died?”

“Phil, please,” Clint begged. “Stop asking questions.”

“I trusted you!”

“Agent Barton is probably the least trustworthy mortal alive. He puts me to shame,” Loki said with a pouty look. “Of course, it could be that he has no trust in himself after the things he’s done.”

“I’m sorry,” Clint said.

“Give me something, Clint. Anything. Give me a reason to stay!”

“I love you, Phil. That’s the only thing I’ve ever had.”

“That’s a lie. You have the truth and it’s the one thing I want right now. If you can’t give that to me, there is no reason for me to stay.”

Clint was on the verge of blurting out how he had loved him since New Mexico, but then the lacking memories would bring forth more questions. The risks were high and he wasn’t about to risk Coulson’s life. 

“Just don’t go,” Clint told him. “We can find a way to…”

“Work it out? It doesn’t work that way without trust. You lied to me and kept things from me. There is no hope for us until you make this right, Clint.”

“We know that will never happen, don’t we, Agent Barton?” Loki said. 

Once he was gone, Clint went to the stove. The pancakes were burning. Feeling his gut split inside of himself, he grabbed the pan and slung it across the room with a roar. 

Clint tore through the apartment tearing into everything until nothing was left but shambles. He flipped over his dresser and when it hit the bed the drawers slid out. Clint’s eyes locked on the handgun and he grabbed it. 

He found his Wild Turkey and after taking two long swallows, he sat on the couch with the gun tight in his hand. 

“You do need to work up the courage,” Loki told him. He was eager to see Clint’s death. 

Clint checked the chamber for rounds and snapped it back in place. The hammer was pulled back and he had it near his temple. The courage left him and he lowered his head sobbing. 

“You will only find peace when you end your life.”

Loki’s words repeated over and over in his mind. The only thing that broke it was the ringing phone. He finally found it and answered it. “Yeah…no, I’m available now. Give me 30 minutes.”

“I suppose getting yourself killed in a mission would be easier,” Loki observed. 

“You sure as hell won’t have me to kick around for much longer, you bastard.” 

Clint grabbed his bag and threw some things into it. He started to grab for the case that carried his bow and stopped. _No_ , he thought to himself. _I don’t need it anymore_.

~*~

When Phil got to the Bus, he met May on the ramp. “How soon can we take off?”

It was obvious something was wrong with him. “What is it?”

“How soon, May?” Phil demanded.

“One hour.”

“You have 45 minutes to get us airborne.” He moved past her and went to his office. Once there, he sat in the chair and took a deep breath.

Suddenly, he grabbed the notebook and opened it. Phil found the card and pulled it out. He searched his desk and after a few minutes he found the matches. Phil took the metal plate from the credenza behind him and set the card on it. He lit the match and gazed at the card for almost an eternity. 

He was about to set it afire, when Skye yelled, “No!”

She came forward and took the match from him. “Are you crazy?” Seeing his face, she knelt. “AC, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t remember when I got this damn card! I can’t remember!”

The desperation in his eyes was almost too much to bear. She pulled him close. “You will. Don’t stop believing that.”

~*~

Clint spent nearly the next month going from one mission to the next. Each one seemed to grow more dangerous. Fulbright never made the attempt to pull the agent back at seeing his suicidal trek.

It wasn’t until Clint’s most dangerous mission yet that it all came to a head. Looking over the map, Clint studied the plans carefully. 

“Here’s a blind spot,” Clint told Fulbright. “I can get him to the wire from there. 

A North Korean scientist was on the run once he discovered the government had acquired Chitauri weaponry. The danger of it prompted him to send a message for help. 

“The tunnel system is sparse,” Fulbright explained. “It’s also known to be unstable.”

“Once we get halfway through the tunnel, I can blow it easy enough. It’ll keep them off our tails and it won’t be a loss since they’ll find out where we’re going pretty quickly.”

“We’ll be waiting on the other end,” Fulbright told him. 

“I don’t like the idea of a North Korean prison. Those damn places are known for not being nice.” _They like keeping people alive for torture_ , Clint thought to himself. 

On a moonless night, Clint strapped on the chute. He was in aircraft and would go in using a HALO technique. That meant it would be a high altitude jump and it would be a low opening of the parachute. It would help disguise his approach to the drop. 

Once he got to the shack, Clint pulled his knife ready to take out any surprise visitors.

“Hawkeye!”

The whispered voice got his attention. “Clipper,” he responded back.

The young scientist stepped forward and gave him a short bow. “You’re early.”

“It means I’m never late.” Clint sheathed his knife. “You got it?”

The scientist took out the memory card. “It has everything my government acquired from the black market. They know I have these photos. I can’t stay.”

“Let’s get going.”

It was a 4 mile march to the border. A team of Chinese nationals friendly to the U.S. would be on the other side with Fulbright waiting for them. A secret airstrip would fly them home. As much as Clint didn’t care whether he lived or died, getting caught behind enemy lines was not an option. 

They were nearly to entrance to the tunnel when sirens suddenly began blaring. 

“Go!” Clint yelled. He pushed the man forward and they ran hard towards the tunnel.

Hearing them closing in on them, Clint knew if they were going to have a chance he’d have to slow them down. He took out his handgun and began firing at the lights. He’d never be able to take out the soldiers, but he could make it hard as hell for them to be seen.

He saw the scientist go into the tunnel and Clint pushed himself harder to make it. He had lost too much ground as it was. He was almost to the entrance when he heard explosions.

“No!” 

Clint turned at the overwhelming force with their guns lowered on him. He clenched his teeth as he dropped his weapon.

~*~

As soon as Clint was brought to the prison, he was dragged into a delousing chamber where he was strip-searched and showered. Along the way he got beaten for good measure. He was dressed in plain garments and his shoes taken away. By the time they finished with him, he had to be dragged to his cell and was shoved to the cement floor. A rat sniffed at his feet and Clint kicked him away.

There was no doubt about it now. He was going to die here.

~*~

At SHIELD headquarters Steve and Tony are sitting across from each other at the conference table deep in discussion.

“Forty-two million dollars?” Steve was incredulous at the staggering sum of money. “Where am I going to get forty-two million dollars?”

“You didn’t leave yourself a lucrative life insurance policy when you crashed a German bomber into the ice?” Tony asked.

“If I want to buy my likeness, you want $42 million…for my face, Tony.”

“If I gave everything away, I’d be broke.”

“It’s my face,” Steve repeated. “I can’t believe my face is worth that much.”

“Gotta admit the old man knew how to make a buck.”

Phil Coulson sat quietly on the far end looking into the distance. Nothing seemed to get him out of his near constant depression these days. 

“I don’t know what to do for him,” Skye told May. 

“There is nothing we can do,” May admitted. “As long as he won’t let us, we just have to stand by and wait.”

“We can make sure he knows we’re here for him,” Natasha told them both. 

When Nick Fury entered the room, everyone quieted. “I have news that won’t be easy for you to hear.” He took a breath before making the announcement. “Agent Clint Barton was sent on a mission in North Korea to pull out a scientist who was ordered to study Chitauri weaponry that was acquired on the black market. The scientist managed to escape. Barton was lost in the process. SHIELD has declared him MIA for the time being. It’s expected he’ll be KIA in the next few days.”

Phil blinked several times as he took in the news. He slowly got to his feet and left the room. May, Skye and Natasha followed him.

“Do we know for sure he’s dead?” Steve asked.

“Confirmation is expected soon.”

“So what are we waiting for?” Tony asked. “A written invitation?”

“We can’t go after him even if we’re positive he’s alive,” Fury said.

“Why the hell not? He’s one of ours, Fury. We don’t leave one of ours behind. Isn’t that the rule around here?”

“It’s complicated,” Steve tried to tell him.

“Fuck that! We go in, get him and make sure those sons of bitches know not to fuck with the Avengers!”

No one spoke for a moment and then Fury said, “Our government is denying everything. If we make a play we could destabilize the entire region. Barton knew that going in.”

“I won’t accept that!” Tony slammed his hand on the table. “Clint Barton is an Avenger. This isn’t over, Fury.”

After he stormed from the room, Steve said, “I’ll talk to him.”

“There’s one more thing. Fulbright led this mission.”

“And?”

“I need you to do some undercover work, Captain America,” Fury told him. 

~*~

Coulson didn’t slow down a bit when he got to the men’s room. As soon as he got in a stall, he began throwing up. May herded the men out and stood guard while Skye and Natasha remained close. 

One of the most unsettling things either of them had ever seen was the sight of the unflappable SHIELD agent vomiting over the bad news.

Phil sunk to the floor. Natasha handed him a wet towel. “Clint’s dead.”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“Natasha, you know how it works. Governments deny culpability and leave their own people to languish until they’re either shot or tortured to death.”

“Not always,” Natasha said.

“What?” Skye asked.

Phil shook his head. “The North Koreans have a SHIELD agent. He’s too valuable to the North Koreans and not valuable enough to our government after what happened in New York.”

“I don’t understand,” Skye said. “He’s a hero, an Avenger. He saved people. They’ll let him die?”

“Yes,” Phil answered. The tears on his face were proof of that truth.

~*~

Steve adjusted his jacket at the bar and looked towards the door. He was early and he realized now it was a mistake. He was never one to be patient. 

The news of Clint Barton had been a hard blow to take and Steve had spent a considerable amount of time talking Tony down from going all Iron Man on the country of North Korea. He at least got him to agree to not go in and instead put his resources to good use by seeing if Clint was actually dead. Hopefully, the North Koreans wouldn’t get wind they were poking around.

When Steve’s guest arrived, he stood and adjusted his jacket. “Agent Fulbright.”

They shook hands and sat. After ordering their drinks, Fulbright said, “I was pretty surprised by your call, Captain.”

“Call me Steve, please. I never felt like I earned that title.”

“Less. I’m not a title man either.”

The waitress set the drinks down and once she was gone, Fulbright leaned forward. “Hey, I’m sorry about Barton.”

“Risk is part of the game,” Steve told him. “If we’re not willing to accept that we’re in the wrong line of work.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Fulbright took a drink. “I wish more people in this country realized that.”

“It’s different now,” Steve told him. “Americans understood what sacrifice meant back in my day.”

“I bet you miss that.”

“Yes, I do.” Steve did. The changes were unsettling still and it was taking longer to adjust than he had counted on. He needed to get the conversation back on track. “Listen, I called you here because my people aren’t accepting Barton’s death. Do you think he’s dead?”

“If he isn’t, he’s gotta wish he was by now, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t come out alive.”

How simply Fulbright said it infuriated Steve. He schooled his face and continued. “Why’s that?”

“We blew the tunnel as soon as the scientist came out.”

Steve couldn’t believe it. Fulbright admitted it. “You didn’t wait for Barton?”

“There was a Chinese patrol coming over the hill and everyone was anxious to get the hell out of there. Since Barton hadn’t come out with the scientist we didn’t see the point.”

“I’m sorry. Losing a soldier is tough.”

“Soldier my ass,” Fulbright bit out with venom. “Barton’s as much a traitor as Benedict fucking Arnold. He’s no soldier. Hell, he was practically one of them. Goddam Shit-tari!”

The motive was clear. Fulbright had set Barton up to be lost behind enemy lines. Steve wanted to reach over and throttle the man. Instead, Steve raised his up his glass. “To America.”

“Fucking A!”

They finished their drinks and as soon as Steve could get away, he left the restaurant and walked across the street to an apartment building. He went to the third floor where Fury waited with a group of people

“Did you get it?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, we got it,” Fury answered. “And more.”

Steve went with Fury to Fulbright’s office with a group of SHIELD agents. He stood near the door with a near smile on his face.

“Agent Fulbright,” Fury said. “You are under arrest for crimes against the United States and possible murder depending if Agent Barton is alive or not.”

“What the hell is this?” Fulbright demanded. 

That was when Steve pushed off the wall and came forward. “You set up one of our own to get caught behind enemy lines!”

“You’ll have to prove it, Captain.”

“Not a problem, Fulbright,” Fury stated. He held up photos. “You met with the Chinese Ambassador’s attaché over a week ago and passed a note and cash. We also recorded your entire conversation with Rogers. It’s all right here.”

“I did nothing wrong!”

“Good luck with that one,” Fury told him.

After Fulbright was taken away, Fury turned to Steve. “Good job.”

“You didn’t think I had it in me.”

“No, I knew you could do it. I just wasn’t sure if you wanted to.”

“Hey, I don’t think like he does. This is America, Fury. We are supposed to take care of each other. Seeing this sort of thing now…”

“Yeah, I know,” Fury said with a sigh. 

As they were leaving, Fury looked at Steve. “$42 million dollars? Is he for real?”

“Yeah. You wouldn’t happen to have it, would you?”

“Fuck no. The ex-wife ran off with my lawyer to Vegas after the divorce. I got less than nothing.”

~*~

The interrogations and beatings were daily for Clint. He knew it was only a matter of time before they tire of him, but it wouldn’t be for a while yet. They suspected he was a SHIELD agent and that was the one thing he would never admit.

Winter was beginning to settle in and food was growing scarce. All Clint had was a mat on the cold floor and a bowl with maggot-filled rice. He tried to eat, but his hands shook and the pain in his chest was getting worse. He didn’t know if it was the beatings or pneumonia.  

After two weeks of torture, Clint laid on the cold cement waiting to die. His chest hurt so much and he was constantly shaking. The last time he remembered them coming, they had kicked him several times in the ribs. Upon realizing how close to death he was, they let him alone.

Clint barely heard the thunder overhead. Explosions and chaos erupted not far and when the wall was blown apart, he didn’t move a muscle. 

Thor walked through the rubble and he immediately went to Clint. Thor knelt and touched his forehead. The heat of it made him pull his hand back. “By the gods, Barton.” 

Thor was careful how he lifted Clint into his arms. He left the cell and despite the attempts to stop him, Thor had no trouble leaving the prison.

When he arrived at Asgard, he rushed Clint to the healing room where his father waited. 

“Quickly,” Odin ordered. 

Once Clint was on the bed, Odin raised his hand over the mortal’s forehead. “Loki’s hold is much stronger than I believed.”

“Bringing him to Adgard may have strengthened his hold,” Thor surmised. “Will he live?”

“I do not know, my son. First we must break the link between them.”

“I will see to it, Father.” 

Thor made his way to the dungeon where Loki was imprisoned.

“Well, my brother has finally seen to keep me company.” Loki strolled about the cell as if it were his own castle.

“Release your hold on Clint Barton, brother. Do this thing and you will find me grateful.”

“I would, brother, but alas he is in another realm.”

“He is here on Asgard. I rescued him once we discovered your binding spell.”

“How is it that it took you so long, brother?” Loki smiled as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

“It matters not, Loki. Release him.”

“I think not. I intend to get my revenge on him for his betrayal. Last I saw of him, it will happen soon.”

“His betrayal? Loki, you possessed his spirit and set him loose upon his own people.”

“I freed him, brother! Did you not witness his warrior skills! As my vassal, Barton had more freedom to use his gifts in all their glory.”

“Aye, Loki, I saw it when he fought the Chitauri. Clint Barton needs no help from us in order to be a great warrior. Now, I ask you again. Release him.”

“No.”

“I was hoping you’d refuse,” Thor said. He took the force field down and flung his hammer at Loki. 

The demigod landed on his back and before he could get up, Thor set the hammer on his chest. “Now, brother, you have two choices. Break the binding spell and live or I put my hammer through your skull and the binding spell is broken.”

“Well,” Loki said trying to catch his breath. “Since you put it that way…”

Thor lifted the hammer and motioned for the guards. Loki was chained and taken to the healing room where Odin stood with the healers as they cared for Clint.

“Isn’t this charming,” Loki commented. “All this fuss over a mortal.”

“Of which is your doing, Loki!” Odin said barely containing his fury. “This boy has suffered at your hands and you will end it now!”

“I freed him, Father.”

“You tortured him, you wretched boy! Now release him!”

With a bored sigh, Loki went to the head of the bed and managed to lay his hands over Clint’s eyes. The binding spell was broken as tiny lines flowed from Clint into Loki. After a moment, he stepped back. “He is released. I suspect he will come to miss my presence.”

“Take him away,” Odin ordered the guards.

Thor moved closer and studied Clint’s sleeping form. “Is there any change?”

“His heart beats stronger,” one of the healers answered. “The infection runs through him.”

Odin moved closer. “His will to live is gone, my son. Loki did his work well.”

“Without it, he will surely die. I must go to Earth, Father. Perhaps there is hope yet for Clint Barton among those who care for him.”

~*~

The shock of seeing Thor landing on the balcony had everyone on their feet. The entire team, including Phil’s, were present. 

“Good,” Steve said. “You’re here. We need your help.”

“Clint disappeared,” Bruce told Thor. 

“My friends, Clint Barton resides with us at Asgard,” Thor explained.

“It was you,” Tony said. “A North Korean prison was nearly leveled. We had no idea if Clint was being held there or not.”

“Why do you have him?” Phil asked.

“Come, let us talk,” Thor instructed. He set his hammer down and took a chair. “For some time, Heimdall has detected a force leaving Asgard through the Bifrost. It was well hidden and has taken many days in determining its source and destination.”

“Earth,” Skye guessed. 

“Loki somehow managed to maintain his hold on Clint Barton.”

“He’s controlling him?” Natasha asked.

“No, that power was taken from him. Loki used a binding spell that enabled him to project an image of himself into Barton’s mind. It was how they communicated with each other.”

“Why would Clint want to communicate with Loki? Bruce asked. “He wanted to kill Loki.”

“Barton never welcomed the intrusion. Loki was determined to drive him to his death in any way possible.”

“Jesus,” Phil whispered. “Fulbright.”

“It explains a lot,” Steve said. 

“How is he?” Tony asked.

“The link has been broken,” Thor explained. “Barton has no desire to live. The damage Loki did was considerable.”

“What can we do?” Natasha was ready to go to Asgard if need be.

“If I could bring all of you to Asgard, I would. If one of you would accompany me…”

Everyone stood and when Phil walked to the bar it became apparent there were more questions.

“Phil,” Natasha said. 

“It has to be me,” he said. “It’s my fault that this happened.”

“No one is allowed to ride that train,” Tony told him. “This falls squarely on Loki’s shoulders. Blaming ourselves does not help Clint.”

“Stark is right,” Thor said. “Coulson, you come only to help Barton. Do not come to absolve yourself.”

“I’m coming for both reasons,” Phil told him.

“Why not bring him here?” Steve asked. “Seems to me that he needs home.”

“Barton is our responsibility,” Thor told him. “We did not discover what Loki was doing until he was near death.”

“Let’s go now,” Phil said.

“Well enough.” Thor took hold of his hammer.

~*~

When Phil saw Clint, he was taken aback at how frail he looked. “He’s lost weight.”

“He will regain his strength when he wakens,” Thor assured him.

“He’ll live?”

“If his will to live is regained,” Odin explained. 

“Thank you.” Phil took the chair next to the bed. “I won’t leave him.”

It was later when food and water was brought, that Phil began to talk. He took a cloth and wiped the perspiration from Clint’s face. 

“I wish I could be angry at you,” Phil said. “But I don’t blame you for keeping what Loki was doing to you to yourself. Fulbright is in prison. He set you up, Clint. I would imagine you don’t think you have a lot of reason to trust anyone after all of this.” Phil dipped the cloth in the water and rung it out. He continued washing him as he spoke. “You have people who care about you. This time you’re not getting your way.”

Phil set the cloth aside and leaned forward. He straightened the spread and Clint’s hand grabbed his. When he looked at Clint, looking back at him were familiar eyes. “You’re awake.”

“You talk too much.”

Phil smiled. “Welcome back.”

“Where am I? Did you come for me?”

“Asgard,” Phil said. “It was Thor who got you out. I’m sorry.”

“No one else could’ve.” Clint tried to raise himself up, but he was still weak. 

“The doctors here are better than ours, but you still need to give yourself some time.”

“I need to sleep.” Clint rolled to his side and Phil pulled the covers up. He watched Clint sleep for a while before being led to an adjoining room where he could get some rest.

~*~

It was three days later when Thor guided Clint to the dungeon. It was strange seeing so many creatures locked up behind force fields. 

“I don’t know why you think me seeing Loki will change anything,” Clint told him. 

“Loki has physically released you, Barton, but it’s our supposition that you need to know it in your heart.” Before they stopped at the cell, Thor said, “Remember. He cannot harm you. He has no power over you.”

“In the flesh,” Loki said with a grin. “You look captivating, Agent Barton. Even better in person.”

“You think so?” Clint said. He motioned for Thor and the force field came down. Clint raised the weapon waiting for him and a blast knocked Loki to the back wall. “It’s good to see you, too.”

“Oh, my Agent Barton.” Loki laughed as he struggled to get to his feet. “I expected your indignation, but this is so much better.”

Clint fired another shot at Loki. The demigod went down a second time.

“Is this all you’re capable of, Agent Barton? Taking a staff and throwing me about?” Loki grinned and he finally got to his feet. “The difference between you and me, Barton, is that I broke your spirit until you crumpled to your knees. My spirit is alive and well even within these walls that I will never be allowed to breach.”

Knowing the truth behind his words, Clint dropped the staff and walked away. 

~*~

It was the following day and Clint was taken to the courtyard to train with Asgard soldiers. Thor took him to the weapons room and handed him a bow.

Clint hefted it in his hand and tested its balance. “You think this will help?”

“I’m told you haven’t used a bow in many days.”

“It’s been months.” Clint took the arrows and followed Thor outside. 

Odin and Phil watched from the balcony as Clint fired off several arrows. When Phil saw Odin shaking his head, he asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Where is the great warrior who used these meager weapons on fully armored Chitauri? I see a man shooting arrows at a target.”

Odin waved to Thor. The three men watched Clint for a few more minutes. 

“The fire in him is gone, my son,” Odin said. “The warrior no longer exists.”

Phil knew the Asgard king was right. It was in Clint’s every movement. “This isn’t Loki. It’s something else.”

“This is a sickness of the heart, Father. How does one mend this kind of pain?”

“By seeking its source,” Odin said.

~*~

It was later in the evening and Clint pushed the food around his plate. While his appetite had returned with a vengeance, this night his thoughts were on the day in the courtyard. He knew as well as everyone else that he had lost something along the way. 

“Odin is taking us to a special chamber in the palace tomorrow,” Phil told him. 

“Why?” Clint toyed with the knife. The depression was thick in his gut. 

“He thinks it’ll help us figure out how to help you.”

“Loki’s link is broken and I’m not sick anymore. Don’t think I’m going to get any better than that.”

“We have to give it a try.” Phil moved the plates back to a tray.

“We?” Clint got to his feet. “You mean me. He wants to stick my head in a fucking machine to see where it’s broke at so he can put a goddamn band aid on it.”

“He feels responsible, Clint. We all want to help you, but you keep throwing everything that you can get your hands on at us to stop us from doing it.”

“You can’t fix me, Phil. That’s what you don’t get. Do you want to know why?”

“Why?”

Clint stood and leaned forward. “Because I still hear him. He’s in my fucking head 24/7. Even breaking that damn psychic link didn’t take him out of my head!”

At hearing the words, panic was starting to build in Phil’s chest. “We’ll keep trying. Fury knows a professor in upstate New York who might be able to help if this fails.”

“Just stop it! Do you hear me, Phil? Stop. I can’t do this anymore!” Clint slammed a cup down.

“I was wrong, you know.” Phil blinked back the tears and stepped closer to Clint. “I walked out on you and I shouldn’t have. I don’t know if I could’ve read the signs of how much trouble you were in. I gave up on you and I wish I hadn’t. All I know is that if we don’t try it means not just me giving up, but you giving up on yourself. I don’t think I can stand that, Clint.”

A tear did fall that time and Phil lowered his head. “If this doesn’t work, we’ll go back to Earth and that’ll be the end of it if that’s what you want.”

“It’s what I want.” Clint walked off and left Phil alone. 

~*~

The four men met in a dark grey room with only a table. In the center was a crystal that looked the size of an oversized globe. Within it, lights moved about and reflected off the walls which changed the composition and color of the room.

“We use this for criminal investigations,” Odin told Phil and Clint. “It’s a powerful device because it not only projects images from the mind. It also reflects notable emotional turmoil.”

“Like a lie detector,” Phil observed. He wondered how well a device like this would work on Earth.

“It’s not commonly used for good reason,” Thor told Phil. “The emotional aftermath can be quite potent. Barton, do you want to do this?”

Clint looked at Phil and remembered his promise. “Yes. This is our last shot.”

“Approach the crystal, Clint Barton,” Odin ordered. “Place your hand upon it and allow it to search your mind. You must begin chronologically. Begin when you first encountered Loki.”

Clint licked his dry lips and stepped forward. He had no idea what to expect and hesitated just a bit before placing his hand on the crystal. The power of it was almost instantaneous and he nearly lost his footing. 

The room changed into the complex where Loki first appeared and then the race to leave the collapsing buildings. Through Clint’s eyes they witnessed how he pulled together enemies of SHIELD in order to ready the Earth for invasion. 

It was when an image of Clint attempting to escape that Odin held up his hand. 

“Stop!” He looked at Clint. “What is this?”

“It was like I woke up from a nightmare,” Clint said. “He wanted an attack on a museum to get the Iridium. I remember I didn’t want to do it.”

“I’ve never seen anyone break from the control of the staff,” Thor said. “As long as I’ve known, it’s virtually impossible.”

“Continue,” Odin instructed.

The scene continued with Clint being subdued and then Loki using a combination of the staff and mentally invading Clint’s thoughts and emotions. 

“Stop,” Odin said in a calmer voice. “This is how Loki bound you to him, Clint Barton. I’ve never seen it used in such a way.”

 “Barton,” Thor said. “Study this moment carefully. He is using the staff and his mental prowess to take what he will without a care to how it affects you. It’s intended to weaken you emotionally. You become vulnerable to your own trauma and Loki’s will.”

“This staff,” Phil said. “Is this kind of control what it was designed for?”

“No,” Odin answered. “Using it in this way is destructive to the victims. The long term damage is difficult to overcome.”

“We only used it for brief moments in times of war. It was taken in battle a thousand years ago. Loki refused to disclose how he acquired it.”

“It’s in my head,” Clint said. “I saw him getting it.”

“You witnessed this?” Odin asked.

“It was a memory of his. I’m sure of it.” Clint shook his head. “I don’t know if I can remember the face.”

“It would be difficult,” Thor told him. “It would be a risk I would not take with you, Barton.”

Clint wouldn’t argue with him. “It was like my soul was being ripped in half.”

“Continue,” Odin said.

“No,” Clint told him. 

“Why? Phil asked. 

“I can’t.” Clint closed his eyes. “Loki wanted to test my obedience to him. He wanted to see how far I would go.”

Phil had wondered how far Loki had taken Clint. He looked at Odin and Thor. “I don’t want him to play this out.”

“He must explore these emotions,” Odin insisted. 

“He will,” Phil promised. “Give us some privacy, please.”

Clint pulled his hand away and the images disappeared. “I betrayed you.”

“No, it was Loki.”

“He saw how important you were to all of us, most of all to me, Phil.”

“To you? I don’t understand.”

Clint rubbed his head and moved across the room. “It’s why you got the card from me. Please don’t ask me anymore.”

Phil approached him and settled his hands on Clint’s shoulders. “I won’t. I promise. Just one more thing.”

“What?”

“I forgive you.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. I forgive you.”

“I heard you the first time.” Clint tried to pull away and Phil refused to release him. 

“I forgive you.”

“Stop it. Right now.”

Phil pulled him close and kissed his cheek. “I forgive you.”

“Don’t,” Clint whispered. “Don’t forgive me, please.”

“I forgive you.” As Clint cried Phil kept his hold tight. “I forgive you.”

They sat on the floor and Phil never relinquished his hold until Clint had let go of the pain he had been carrying since that day on the helicarrier. 

~*~

When Phil and Clint came out of the room, Thor was waiting. 

“He’s tired,” Phil told Thor.

“We thought he would be. Go rest.”

Thor went to the dungeon where Loki sat with a book across his lap.

“I’m beginning to think you can’t do without me,” Loki told him.

“You should know that Clint Barton will not be returning. He has settled matters with you.”

“He told you this?” Loki straightened. 

“He has resolved his past once and for all Loki. You matter not to him.”

“I forbid it!” Loki got to his feet. “I demand my opus, my final act! Clint Barton must face me!”

Thor only smiled as he turned away from Loki and left the dungeon.

~*~

Phil got Clint back to his room and helped him into bed. Without giving it a second thought, he partially undressed and slid in next to Clint. Holding him close, Phil reflected on the months since his death on the helicarrier. 

One thing was obvious. His relationship with Clint went farther back than he had realized. Phil smiled at the thought. He frowned at how Clint had blamed himself for what had happened. Now he knew the source of why he had been so deeply traumatized. 

Phil kissed Clint’s cheek and made a mental promise to never let him go again. He was beginning to see the depth of Clint’s love for him. 

EPILOGUE

Phil had come to accept that how he had been brought back to life would remain an ongoing mystery. Pushing Clint to talk about it was not the way to go about it. They had overcome so much already and he was not going to risk going backwards at this point in their relationship.

He continued missions on the Bus with his team and Clint had accepted a new senior SO that preferred missions few and far between. It worked well for Clint. He spent his remaining time off at the academy training young cadets. 

When the Bus arrived, Clint would be at the airport waiting. They’d go to the apartment on those evenings and occasionally there would be the gathering of the entire team at what was now known as Avengers Tower. 

This night, after a marathon session of sex and a shower, Clint rested his head on Phil’s stomach. He smiled as he remembered the party with the rest of the Avengers.

“Did you see Tony and Steve?” Clint asked. “Steve tried to get Tony to flip a coin with the rights to his image at stake.”

“Two of the most stubborn people on this planet,” Phil said. “The cheapest, too.”

“Tony, cheap?”

“Both of them. Steve has an excuse. Gas was a dime a gallon back in his day,” Phil told him. He ran his hand through Clint’s hair. “Personally, I think Tony likes the idea of owning a piece of Steve. Gives him a perverted thrill.”

Clint chuckled. “It does. I’ve owned your ass since the day I met you.”

“According to you, I gave you my ass,” Phil said with a grin. He didn’t mind not remembering much of their relationship. He was enjoying the new discoveries. 

“Best decision you ever made,” Clint said with a smile. 

Phil shifted around on the bed and moved on top of Clint. “I don’t have to remember to know that.”

 

END


End file.
